<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>path to forgiveness by raiising</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346330">path to forgiveness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiising/pseuds/raiising'>raiising</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Castaspellma AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:20:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiising/pseuds/raiising</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bright Moon is new to Double Trouble. The caring, the affection, the loyalty. The swarm of feelings, all strange and new. Their mother, here to welcome them with open arms. Whether they’re deserving of it or not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castaspella &amp; Double Trouble (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>path to forgiveness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a request that I wanted to post here! Enjoy ✨</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trouble had been avoiding this.</p><p>Any chance for confrontation, any time to talk. They could hardly even believe it.</p><p>Their mother.</p><p>The mother that they’d never met, never heard a word from, the mother they didn’t even know was alive, was here. In Bright Moon of all places. With its winding crystal spires and shining lamps. An air of elegance that made them immensely uncomfortable, a stranger in a foreign land.</p><p>This was all foreign. The little shows of affection, the loyalty, the trust, the kindness. All strange and new and terrifying. </p><p>“Dee? Are you ok?”</p><p>Dee. </p><p>That was new too. They knew Double Trouble, simply Trouble, a plethora of insults, and the petnames, whispered in the dark.</p><p>But never Dee.</p><p>It had a clunky sound to it, childish, inferior. Dee, like a clown, an animal, a pet on display, held in the hands of a little girl.</p><p>Their gaze flicked over to the hem of a flowing purple dress, traced with threads of gold. “I’m fine,” they snapped, looking up into dark eyes and a worried expression. </p><p>“Are you sure?” Castaspella asked.</p><p>They shouldn’t think of her as that; Castaspella. She should be Mom. But that was strange too, another association to make with the word. </p><p>“You shouldn’t worry,” her voice came again, softer. “I’m sure they’ll get used to you soon. Just give them a little time, and I promise you. You’ll fit right in.”</p><p>The shapeshifter sighed, tapping their boot to the floor. “If you say so,” their tone was clipped, perhaps more than necessary.</p><p>The bed shifted, as the woman say beside them, eyes flitting to their face, before landing on her hands, clasped in her lap. “Scorpia, Entrapta; they trust you. You’re their friend,” she said, optimistic as ever.</p><p>It reminded them of the time she tried to introduce them to the village leaders, who had reacted as expected. Shifty gazes, glares, hands moving to weapons. </p><p>“And Glimmer is happy that you’re here! Sure, she has difficulty showing it, but she is! As is your uncle Micah,” she continued, hands shifting.</p><p>Trouble felt their claws pierce the flesh of their palms, the words of Castaspella cold to their ears, harsh and grating.</p><p>Stop talking.</p><p>“And then there’s Catra! Who really—“</p><p>“Stop!” They burst out, spinning to face her sharply.</p><p>Her eyes were wide, mouth ajar.</p><p>“I don’t care about what they think! I don’t care, don’t you realise? I don’t care about them, and I don’t care about you!” Trouble reached out, as if to shake her shoulders violently, to hit something, to claw and maul something, anything, before slamming their hands to their temples, a desperate attempt to calm the cacophony of sounds in their head.</p><p>They couldn’t stay here.</p><p>Too much.</p><p>Home, need to go, need to leave.</p><p>Go.</p><p>And then arms wrapped around them, pulling them close. They fell still, unable to react. Even if they could shake off the shock, they didn’t know what they could possibly do. Castaspella was holding them tightly, expression hidden from view.</p><p>She was shaking slightly, and Trouble realised why. Pain bloomed in their chest, moving up their throat, choking, constricting. They wanted to hide their face from this feeling, no matter how it sought them out.</p><p>Hesitantly, cautiously, they hugged their mother, trying to relax into the embrace. “I’m sorry,” they murmured against her shoulder, looking away. “I didn’t mean it.”</p><p>There was a tense silence. “I know you didn’t. It’s ok.” </p><p>“No it’s not.”</p><p>She gave them a squeeze, fingers moving to stroke back their hair, behind their ears. “You’ll learn. You can change. I know you can.”</p><p>Trouble scoffed, pulling away, this sort of affection still creating an uncomfortable feeling in their chest. “Is everyone here this optimistic?”</p><p>She shrugged, a small smile tugging at her features. “Maybe you’ll pick it up.” </p><p>“I will not,” they gasped, faking offence.</p><p>She laughed quietly, shaking her head.</p><p>In the brief silence that followed, Trouble had a thought. “You really think I can change?” </p><p>“Of course. Anyone can change.” She was silent for a fraction of a second, before chuckling awkwardly. “Well, not anyone.”</p><p>They sucked in a breath, mind turning back to the events of the past couple months. Of the people they’d seen, hardly even people anymore, their actions, their words, stripping away any of their humanity.</p><p>The witch, the warlord.</p><p>Empty husks, beings of malice and hate.</p><p>And Trouble made a promise. “I’ll change. I’ll change for you,” they paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “mom.” </p><p>“And I’ll help you, Dee.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>